Secrets Never Stay Secret
by Smexy Maxi
Summary: Hi. So, I'm not stealing this, I am the same uploader from Reddit who simply is sharing this here for some more attention. Secrets Never Stay Secret follows Kellan Jones, assistant manager at Fredbear's Family Diner, as he uncovers the plot of the manipulative serial killer and his own superior, William Afton, with assistance from Afton's own son, Mike.
1. Chapter One

_June 14th, 1983. 7:42 AM_

-Fredbear's Family Diner and Grill, Colorado-

The man's patience was thinning. Two years. It had been two damn years since he had joined up as a part-time employee at Fredbear's Diner and Grill, shortly after dropping out of college and kept on rising through the ranks to becoming a full-time assistant manager. Although, he may as well have been a full manager, for his boss Will was a sketchy S.O.B who was barely ever around to do any managerial work, instead leaving it to his underlings.

The man stood up against a wall, dressed in his typical uniform, a nametag reading "Kellan Jones" attached to his purple tie. God, how he hated this job. The place was falling apart, the kids were annoying, not to mention disgusting (Seriously, Kellan was starting to get tired of cleaning pizza remains off the ceiling), and those animatronics… those damn hell-forsaken things…

There were two of them who stood up on the main stage in the diner area. One, the lesser of the two, was a yellow bunny, standing at about five feet, 6 inches tall, a droopy purple bow tie on his golden chest and a big dopey grin permanently plastered on his face. He was called Bonnie, and the kids absolutely hated him. He was the target whenever somebody wanted to throw food, or spit or whatever. Kellan almost felt bad for the poor bastard. But, not as much as he felt bad for himself when he had to clean the stinking thing out every evening, once the brats had left.

The main star of the show, the one everyone was there for, was none other than Fredbear himself. The big golden bear with the huge jaw was certainly the more popular of the two. Unlike his compatriot, he was in near-perfect condition, from his smooth muddy yellow belly to his shining lavender top hate perched atop his round head. Frankly, Jones had no idea why the hell the thing was so popular. Probably just because of the tech behind him. You didn't see many walking, talking southern-accented bears in the early 80s.

The two overlooked the bright dining area decorated with a classic black and white tile flooring and walls lined with children's drawings ranging from hilarious to downright unintentionally disturbing. Why Will insisted on keeping them up, Kellan had no idea.

In any case, the man was going to be needed soon. He was on duty to monitor the parts and services room, and the shitty, rotting animatronics that were held within. God, he hated that position. It was creepy, and boring and the spare robots leaked god knows what. Will said it was oil. Kellan said he was pretty sure oil didn't smell like puke and iron. That little outburst had gotten him a week's unpaid suspension from work. That week had been one of the greatest in his life.

Kellan removed his cap and rubbed his pale hands through his tangle of messy black hair. It was the peak of summer and the man's clothing was sticking to his body. He was tired and he was irritated. Well, more irritated than usual, which was saying quite a lot indeed.

That was when his manager came around and Jones could not help but let a groan escape his lips. The man was broad-shouldered and had somewhat of a belly, although he was far from the most overweight man Kellan had ever seen. with heavy stubble and his brown hair neatly styled as always, save for one cowlick that never seemed to stay out of his eyes. This man's name was William Afton, better known as Will, and he was the co-founder and manager of Fredbear's. Kellan absolutely despised everything about him. He was weird. The way he walked was weird, the way he talked was weird, somehow even the way he sounded was weird, with a heavily set British accent that just give Kellan the shivers. He was the kind of guy you wouldn't entirely trust around children, suffice to say.

"Kellan." He commanded, his voice dry and humourless, devoid of emotion. It was impossible to tell how old the man was. Forty? Fifty? Two hundred and fifty? Will could have been any of those ages and it would have been no surprise to the assistant manager. "Time for you to inspect the spare suits. I want them to be spotless and ready for anything. Understand?"

Jones gave an audible sigh as he said "Yes sir. I'll take care of that now." With just enough sarcasm that would make it clear he was not happy about doing the job. Still, it could be worse. At least he'd be away from these stupid, screaming kids…

As Kellan stood in the musty room, staring at the suits, he began wishing for the kids again. Surely anything would be better than this. The stuffy, cold, cobweb-filled room was a far cry from the bright colours and loud noises of this room. He may have hated the main dining area, but this was far, far worse. And all of that was disregarding the suits.

There, on the floor in the room, sat two of them. Old prototypes of Fredbear and Bonnie, for use in various emergencies. They were unstable and barely functioning and the springlock system installed within them was so dangerous that two employees had died within them before Henry, the elusive owner of Fredbear's and the only man Will answered to, retired the models, replacing them with pure animatronics. Suits that could serve as both state-of-the-art animatronics and suits were a neat concept, but some things were meant to stay as just that: a concept. And in execution, it was a total failure.

Both suits were quite literally rotting away inside. The Fredbear suit was slimmer and had a smaller head than the newer model, and was missing one eye and both legs. It was a complete train wreck, but Bonnie somehow fared worse. He (or she. Kellan never really knew its gender) was missing both ears, both eyes and one arm. Its chest had rotted away to reveal its inner endoskeleton, years-old splotches of blood streaked on it from former employees who had met their fate while wearing the thing.

Kellan knew he had to get this over with, there was no getting out of it, so he produced a flashlight from his belt and kneeled down to work on Fredbear. The thing was dripping with fluid, and smelling like… Jesus, was that piss? It totally was. Some idiot had urinated on the suit! Jones was two seconds away from screaming, until something caught his attention.

He wasn't sure what it was, but something seemed off. The chest was clear of dust, unlike the rest of the decrepit mess before him. This thing had been recently removed. By who, though? No one was supposed to touch the things aside from Kellan himself. And he hadn't laid a finger on the chest.

Tentatively, the man took his screwdriver from the pocket of his purple shirt and slowly began to open up the robot's chest. The screws were rusted over and took a while to fiddle with, before finally giving up and coming loose. The more screws that came off, the more a new smell began to emit from the one-golden bear. This wasn't just the piss, or oil. This was… rotten flesh. It smelt like something that had once been alive was in there. Good god, he was about to gag.

Eventually, all screws were removed and at a snail's pace, Kellan lifted the chest plate away. The smell getting stronger with every minute…

… and the blood in every inch of his body froze. There was… there was…

"Wha-what the FUCK?!" Jones yelled, stumbled backwards, his gag reaching an apex. He leaned over his side and vomited onto the floor. It really didn't make the room any worse. Nothing could really make it worse than it already was. Throwing up did not make the poor man feel better. he only wanted to vomit again. For inside the suit… was a child. A dead child, no older than eight or nine, curled up in the foetal position and slowly rotting away. The body seemed to have only been there for a few days, but it was already stinking. Kellan was so shaken that he didn't even realise the door had opened and closed again behind him.

"So," came the British-accented voice of William Afton. "You've discovered it. I should've figured this would happen."

Every part of his body trembling, Kellan turned to face his boss, giving another, feebler, spout of "Wha- what the fuck…" to which the British manager smiled thinly, standing in the doorway. His face was masked in shadow and his eyes seemed to glow purple in the darkness.

"Well, we've reached somewhat of a conundrum here, haven't we, Kellan." He said, his voice calm, but clearly holding back some degree of insanity. It was almost as if he was preventing himself from laughing. "Here's really the only way we can go from here. Either, you forget this ever happened and you continue to live your miserable existence, after you dispose of the body for me, of course. Or…"

The two men locked stares with each other, Will's powerful and collected, Kellan's weak and angry. He had no clue what was going on with Will, but he had no doubt that the eccentric businessman went far beyond the weirdo everyone thought he was. This man was truly twisted, there was a true sense of evil about him. Even a college dropout loser like Kellan could tell that much.

"I kill you right here, right now, and nobody will ever learn what happened to you. You'll be just one of the hundreds of missing people in this state every year. It's up to you, Kellan Jones. Choose wisely."


	2. Chapter Two

_June 14th, 1983. 6:30 PM_

-Kellan Jones' Apartment, Colorado-

Kellan was alive. He wasn't sure how he managed to survive, and he wasn't sure if he even wanted to be alive, after what he had experienced, but he was alive, and that was all that really mattered.

He laid his head against his desk as he sat on the floor, blood flecked on his body. His purple shirt lay on the polished wood floor beside him, to reveal his lanky, pale body. A small ying-and-yang tattoo stood proudly upon his left pectoral and he had a small scar across his slim stomach, a reminder of a childhood fight. A remnant of long-gone days that Kellan had always been happy to see the end of. Looking back on it, for the first time in his life, he wished he could be a child again. Back before he needed to assist a murderer.

He wasn't entirely sure how he had done it, but as Will granted Jones his offer, the assistant manager had quite suddenly discovered he was picking himself off the floor, outstretching a hand to make a deal. Anything to help keep him alive in the spur of the moment. Once the two shook on it, things quickly progressed as if it were clockwork. Kellan had cleaned out the child's body from the suit and disposed of it cleanly, all while Afton stayed out front, keeping his eye on the kids in the main dining area. How many of those poor bastards were going to be subjected to the man? Was Afton a one-time offender or something more? Kellan had no clue. His brain was addled by alcohol and he knew only two things: There was something seriously fucked about William Afton and there was something seriously fucked about Kellan himself, for him to help out with this. He was a coward, plain and simple. No hiding it. He'd helped a killer to save his own life. There was no changing that.

The man's tortured thoughts were cut short by the ring of a phone coming from the hallway. At first, Kellan contemplated ignoring it in his drunken stupor, but it continued ringing and ringing. It stopped temporarily before starting up again. Whoever was on the other end was not willing to be ignored.

Eventually, Jones picked himself off the floor, with a call of "I'm comin', I'm comin'!", as he picked his slim, yet heavy-feeling body off the ground, limping down the hallway. The man's apartment was simple, for Kellan Jones was not a man of wealth, but it was most definitely homey at the very least, decorated with a nice wood polish and brick walls that gave it a retro vibe. The hallway had a trophy cabinet, but this was mostly filled with books for, outside of a few third-place rosettes, Kellan was as much of an achiever as he was rich.

Soon, he reached the door leading to outside the apartment and next to it, a small table with a shoe rack beneath it and a simple green telephone sat in its holder atop the desk. Drink dulling his vision, Kellan unsuccessfully reached for the ringing phone several times before his final grab was met with success. He held the phone to his ear and mumbled. "Y'ello? Jones residence. How can I-"

"Hello, Kellan. It's Afton." Came the cold, calculating voice that turned Kellan's blood to ice and seemed to restore his senses. "It's good to know I got the correct number. If I were to have called the wrong person, well, that would have been awkward, would you not agree?"

A harsh laugh could be heard on the other end of the line, before quickly coming to an end and things were back to business as usual. "Now, you may be wondering why I'm calling you. I daresay you've been spending your evening drinking and considering quitting your job."

Kellan did not need to reply. His silence was more than enough to confirm Will's guess and, with another short, steel-cold laugh, he continued. "Well, let me tell you now that leaving is not an option for you, Mr. Jones. Let us make this simple. You discovered my secret. And you let me go. You can make all the excuses you may want, but you covered up my crime. Today, you became guilty of both aiding abetting a criminal and desecration of a corpse. In short, if I go to prison, you are equally screwed. There's no getting out of this."

Kellan had already known as much, but to hear someone else come out and say it made it seem so much more real than it had inside his head. Afton was 100% correct, there was no running. Jones could feel his knees giving out as he leaned against the door and sunk down to the ground, phone still held to his ear.

"I'm sure you have your own things to do, so let me make this very simple: If I go down, you go down. So, you are going to stay in your position and help me with what I do, and maybe, just maybe, neither of us will go to prison. Do you like that idea? Too bad, if you don't."

With one more cackle, the phone went dead. William had hung up, leaving the pale, fragile man to stew within his own mind, which was currently a hostile place to be. It was turbulent and dangerous, and the man was in fear of being swallowed whole by his despair. What was he supposed to…?

Something quite suddenly caught his eye, just in the very corner of his brown iris. The hell was that? It almost looked like… a claw, of some kind. And it was in the doorframe of his bedroom. In the literal blink of an eye, the claw was gone, leaving Kellan wondering if he had seen things. Surely, he was. Still, it might be worth looking. Not like he had anything better to do.

He slowly picked himself off the ground and slumped across the hallway, into his bedroom. He wasn't exactly sure what to expect, but what he did not expect was the exact thing he saw. A thing that changed his day from awful to somehow even worse.

Standing in the middle of his room, breathing heavily, was… well, it was indescribable, especially in Jones' inebriated state. It was a huge, hulking monstrosity, similar in appearance to the Fredbear from back in parts and service, but like something out of a demented nightmare, breathing deep mechanical breaths, its chest plate hanging open to reveal the contorted body of the child. Its ginormous jaw was lined with possibly hundreds of sharp teeth, every last one of which was stained with blood. One eye shone bright, angry red, the other left in inky darkness, and the creature was, much like its counterpart, missing both leg casings, suspended from the ground by two thin, wiry endoskeleton legs. One was bent at the knee.

For a few moments, Kellan simply stood stock still, in total belief that the drink had gotten to him. This could not be real. That was then the lumbering abomination launched itself at him and the man jumped back into the hallway, knocking over a few items on the back wall and cursing.

Undeterred by the door frame, which was far too small for it, the creature merely ducked under it, one of its clawed decrepit hands clipping through the wall, making its way into the hallway, even as the apartment's owner started running down the hallway. Stumbling over the shoe rack, he made it to the door after what seemed like hours but was actually no more than a few seconds.

He ran out the door into the main hallway that connected all the apartments in the building and slammed the door shut. Once again, it did very little to stop the thing. He could hear its growling on the other side. Kellan did not hang around to see it open the door, as he began his sprint down the much longer hallway.

In truth, the hallway was little more than 10 or so metres long, but as he sprinted for the elevator, it seemed to stretch on far further, the man appearing to make zero progress as every inch of ground covered added another inch to the end, and hearing the thing behind him at every moment.

Finally, mercifully, Kellan reached the elevator and slammed the button for the lobby three times, nearly breaking it in his urgency and fear. Slowly, at a near agonising pace, the metal box began its descent to the ground floor.

Kellan leaned against the railing, taking a few moments to calm himself down. Just what the hell was going on here? What was that thing? He just needed a few minutes to calm down…

He was reminded of just how vulnerable the little box was, as suddenly, the monstrosity suddenly appeared in the elevator, prompting a shrill scream from Jones as he fell back, slamming his head off the railing and collapsing to the ground.

Somewhere in his drunken state, Jones was starting to realise something. This thing, it couldn't make any physical contact with the world around it. It was almost a perfect representation of the emotions the man was experiencing. Far too perfect. It was as if… as if…

Kellan calmed down, taking a few deep, well-needed breaths, before looking the creature in the eye and plainly stating "You aren't real, are you? You're… you're in my head."

The creature tilted its head, almost as if in acknowledgement, the body within it slowly disappearing. Once the body fizzled away, bit by bit, the Fredbear-like abomination began to sliver away into nothingness. As it did so, it opened its huge jaw and said, in a crunched, mechanical, tortured voice "We'll… meet… again." And it was gone, leaving Kellan to pant in the elevator.

The man was a complete mess, his hair was even messier than usual, and sweat coated every last inch of his body. But, strangely, he was feeling less despair than he had just a few short minutes ago. He still had no clue what he was going to do about Afton, but he had an idea, if not a good one.

It was time for Kellan to do some research.


	3. Chapter Three

_June 15th, 1983. 8:42 AM_

-Jameston Public Library, Colorado-

Now, let's not get ahead of ourselves, Kellan was not an avid reader by any stretch of the imagination. He didn't entirely hate the concept, per se, but, much like most other things in the man's life, he did the bare minimum needed to get by and not a fraction more. Hell, he never anticipated going to a library a day in his life, yet here he was, sorting through the old newspapers.

If his memory served him correctly, then Fredbear's had originally opened back in 1978, so if he wanted to find out anything weird that may be related to the company, he was going to have to start at that date. And so, after a particularly painful hour or two of searching, he finally found something in fine print in a tiny corner of the last page of a paper dated September 8th, 1978.

The grand opening of Fredbear's Family Diner and Grill, which clearly wasn't that grand, since this tiny little square was the most exposure it got. Still, it was a start, and Kellan, his attention restored to him after slowly losing more and more interest in his search, started looking over it, analysing every detail. There wasn't much that he didn't know. Prominent entertainer Henry Emily had partnered up with robotics genius William Afton, in order to bring kid's entertainment to the next level, blah, blah, state-of-the-art robots, blah, blah, et cetera, et cetera. The only thing of any interest Kellan could find was that William had dedicated the restaurant to his wife, who had gone missing a year prior and was never again seen. Jones didn't assume that was overly important, so pressed on to the next article.

Sighing, Kellan undid the top buttons of his shirt in an attempt to survive the stifling heat of the public library. It was reaching critical levels in terms of heat and it was starting to affect the black-haired man's concentration. Still, he had to focus. This was vital. The more he found out about Afton's shady business, the more control he had over the situation, even if it was totally minute.

The next thing of interest he was able to find was a February 1980 article about the springlock failures within the diner's suits. Heh, Kellan couldn't help but chuckle grimly. He was still a security guard on the dayshift when it happened. He actually gave an interview to that paper. Ever since then, Schmidt had issued a statement announcing the retirement of the springlock suits, while Afton had remained suspiciously silent.

Quite suddenly, in a sudden fit of annoyance, Kellan slammed the desk. "Dammit!" he yelled in frustration, attracting a few glares but he didn't care or indeed even notice. He was hot and uncomfortable and getting nowhere. Absolutely nowhere. And that was starting to really piss him off.

Growling, he picked up a paper from 1981 and a single article upon the front page was able to catch his eye. It almost brought a broad grin to his face, and he found himself relaxing.

MISSING CHILD LINKED TO CHILDREN'S ENTERTAINMENT CENTRE

The sudden disappearance of 9-year-old Jason Martinez shocked the local area just a few months ago, but now, recent evidence coming to light suggests that the boy's disappearance has connections to Fredbear's Family Diner and Grill.

Martinez was reported missing by his father, Jeffrey Martinez, at 6:46 PM on Wednesday the 25th of July. The boy and his father went to Fredbear's to start off their week together after a turbulent divorce. The man went to the parking lot to get some cake from his car for the boy and when he came back, the child was missing, never to be seen again.

Martinez, 45, was almost immediately taken into police custody for suspected kidnapping and after lengthy interrogation, was declared innocent and released. From there, the police conducted a full investigation of the Diner, where one of Jason's shoes were found in a back room.

"Fredbear's Incorporated has no connection, intentional or otherwise." Said Fredbear Inc. spokesperson, Mariah Larsson. "we do everything we can to ensure our location is a safe, secure place for children."

Martinez was not impressed and is currently heading a lawsuit against the company for negligence. More developments will be reported upon as they occur.

This is notable for being the second missing persons case associated with the establishment, the first being Emily's own daughter, Charlotte Emily, who went missing at the age of nine and was last seen standing outside the restaurant…

Having read that, Kellan set the newspaper down, thinking. Well, this basically confirmed it. Afton was not a one-time offender. Granted, nothing was concrete, but Jones was 98% convinced that Will had been behind at least one murder besides the kid he had found just the previous day…

The sound of the library door swung open, and Kellan instinctively turned his neck to look at the new entrants. If he were drinking coffee, he would most certainly have spat it out, for in the doorway stood two people he distinctly recognised. One was a tall, well-toned boy of around fifteen years of age, dressed in jeans and a black hoodie. His hair was short and brown. The second was a girl of around 6 or 7, Kellan wasn't entirely clear on the ages, with a red bow in her orange hair that hung down to her waist. Rather amusingly, she barely came up to her brother's stomach in height. Her eyes were of a deep emerald, in contrast to her brother's black irises. Their names were Mike and Elizabeth Afton and they were two of William's three children.

Quickly, Jones swept the papers back into their boxes and hurriedly rushed to place the boxes back onto the shelf from whence they came. The last thing he needed was for Afton's spawn to see him investigating their father's company. He had talked to Mike once or twice, and he seemed like a decent, if cold, guy, but other than that, he had never met or talked to any of the kids. William had told him about them, but this was his first time seeing Elizabeth.

As they headed to the children's books section, for that was clearly where they were going, Elizabeth tugged on Mike's hoodie, as she asked him "Mike, why can't daddy bring me? It's always with you, I hardly ever get to see him anymore."

In response to this, Mike growled softly, clearly not angered at the girl herself, but more the thought of their father. "Trust me, Liz. You don't want to have anything to do with that man. We may be from his DNA, but he is no father to us."

Kellan, his back pressed up against the shelf, suddenly felt an immense feeling of weirdness spread over him. He was overhearing two kids talk about their insane dad. This was the sort of thing he shouldn't be around to hear. He knew more than anybody that family matters were best kept private, and it just felt wrong to be listening. He didn't look behind him, but he was almost certain the abomination from the previous night was looming over him, an ever-growing and cascading representation of his spiralling guilt.

Taking a deep breath, Kellan walked out from the aisle into the main library area and, taking one last look at Mike taking a book off a high-up shelf for his sister, shoved his hands into his pockets and exited the public library into the bright sun of the day.


	4. Chapter Four

_June 17th, 1983. 7:00 AM_

-Fredbear's Family Diner and Grill, Colorado-

Kellan had spent the entirety of his weekend dreading this, but alas, it was finally here. The day where he had to go back to work. To say the least, he was not looking forward to it. Kellan never looked forward to work, but this time more than ever. Before, he was sick of the broken AC, the annoying kids and his tedious duties. Now, he had a psychotic boss to deal with. He may have hated his old life, but he would gladly take it back for the luxury of not having to worry about being murdered at any minute.

He arrived at the location by bus at exactly 7:00 AM, five minutes later than he was supposed to. Not that there was anything he could do about it, as the town's bus service was about as trustworthy as two-year old cheese at the back of the fridge. He walked across the sun-baked asphalt that made up the parking lot for the Diner and made his way to the front door. From the outside, the building looked impressive. It had a classic, sandstone texture to the walls, and the sign, proudly exclaiming "Fredbear's Family Diner and Grill" was suspended in the air by two blue and red striped columns. The blue and red colour scheme continued in a chessboard pattern across a strip of the walls. If one word could sum up the diner's exterior, it was "80s".

Kellan swung open the glass double door and entered into the reception area, where the blue and red pattern continued with the checker-board carpet. Giving a wave to Candy, the redheaded teenage employee who seemed to spend most her time as the receptionist, he immediately made his way to the employee break room.

This room was like his one true sanctuary. The carpet was ragged, the microwave looked like it would explode if anyone tried putting anything in it, the plastic table in the middle of the room was possibly the most depressing thing Kellan had ever laid eyes on, and the fridge was stocked with drinks that were a few months out-of-date. For these very reasons, no other employee went anywhere near the room and it was basically Kellan's private hangout room.

He hung his jacket up on the rusty coat hook in one corner of the room, and took a homemade sandwich and can of coke out of his bag (He wasn't about to trust any food Afton gave him). He was about to eat it, when he felt a big paw on his shoulder.

Turning around, what he saw nearly caused him to piss himself. It was one of the old springlock suits. The Bonnie one. Yet, unlike the disaster in parts and services, this one was in near-perfect condition. It was gleaming yellow, its now-red bow tie sat proudly upon its chest and Kellan could see his terrified reflection in the black nose. Almost immediately, he had no doubt who was within the suit.

"Boo." Said William Afton, chuckling slightly as he did. He removed the mask to indeed confirm his identity and set it down on the table. "Good to see you showed up today, Kellan. We wouldn't want you to get unreasonable, would we?"

"No sir." The assistant manager countered, holding back his fear. He then gestured to the suit. "Where'd you get this? Doesn't look like anything I've ever seen before in this place."

Will again chuckled. "It's of my own design. Kids loved the springlock suits, but the problem came with the number of lawsuits from families of dead employees following springlock failures. So, I was commissioned by Henry to make a suit that functions solely as a suit, for the best of both worlds." He grinned as he spoke.

"And you're wearing them?" Kellan noted. "Seems like the kind of thing lower-level employees like Candy would do." As he said that, he locked eye contact with Afton. The two were of approximately the same height, and, despite Kellan being in his early twenties and Will being anywhere from forty to forty thousand, they looked relatively the same age. Jones wasn't too sure if this was owing to Afton's seemingly infinite youth or his own stress and sleep deprivation as of late.

The statement prompted another laugh, as William replied with "And miss out on the fun? No, why the hell would I do that? No, my boy, I'm going to enjoy this a lot."

Kellan decided it best to ignore the ominous reply from his boss and instead continued to eat his sandwich, as Will picked up the mask, slipped it on and exited the room, Jones feeling like he could finally breathe again. Afton was seriously starting to get under his skin and there was not a thing he could do about it…

The man spent most of his day in the security office, since the main guard had taken a sick day. It was a cramped, sterile room, with one wall lined with monitors, a decrepit desk for setting coffee mugs on, a computer chair that looked like it was falling apart at the seams and one door behind the chair, which Kellan had always hated. He was not a fan of having his back to doors. It made it harder for him to escape and easier for others to sneak up on him. In some pathetic attempt to spruce the place up, little paper plate… well, Kellan hesitated to call them people, so things, designed by children were hanging just above the door and a little plastic cupcake sat depressingly on the desk. It had big blue eyes and looked like it was praying for death. The thing made Kellan shiver.

And so, the man sat in the chair of the security room, wasting his day away observing the monitors. Everything seemed normal. The animatronics performed as per usual, kids were screaming at their parents and the employees looked two seconds away from going into the parts and service room with a noose. Yep, just business as usual.

It was about 12 at midday, when he saw something out of the corner of his eye that made the mess he called a haircut stand on end. On monitor number 5, in the main dining area, William Afton, in the Bonnie suit, was talking to a child. Now, this wouldn't normally be a warning sign, but… well, this was Afton. He was almost certainly up to no good.

"Shit!" Kellan yelped, slamming his fists on the desk, nearly causing it to fall to pieces under his weight. Even as he watched, the seemingly goofy cartoon rabbit began to lead the child out of the way of camera 5. In camera 16, he saw the two appear in the staff-only corridor. This was not good. Paling even more than he usually was, Jones ran out of the little security room and out into the hallway. He saw the door leading to parts and service closing and quickly sprinted down the hall, the Abomination's (Whom Kellan had started calling Trauma Bear) following right behind him, laughing mechanically. As he reached the door, he flung the door open and ran in.

It was too late. Far, far too late. The child, a girl no older than eleven, lay dead on the floor, in a pool of her own blood, the rabbit standing over her, a knife clenched in his paws. Slowly, the mask was removed, and William Afton threw back his head and laughed. His pupils were small in their sockets, there was something feral about the man before him. There was no way he could possibly be human.

"Now this," William said, wiping a tear from his eye. "This is what I live for. That was so clean. So satisfying…"

Sensing Jones behind him, he turned his head to look at him. "Oh, hello there, my little assistant. Pleasure to see you here." He said, and as he did so, he suddenly flashed to something far more twisted in Kellan's mind. Something not dissimilar to Trauma Bear. But in a second, he was back to normal and, laughing, he began to remove the suit, starting with the arms, hen the legs and then the chest plate, until he was back to normal William Afton.

Cleaning the blood from his face with a handkerchief, Afton walked to the exit of the room. As he did so, he put his hand on Kellan's shoulder, saying "Take care of the body, son, before someone sees it. What a mess." And he was gone, leaving just Kellan and the girl's body in the room.

Hyperventilating heavily, Kellan stood in the darkness for a few seconds, almost feeling Trauma Bear's breath on his neck. His skin was crawling. He shook his head and walked forward towards the body, without even thinking. He knew what had to be done.

As he kneeled over the corpse of the tiny, curly-haired blonde girl, he felt a single tear roll down his cheek. He didn't know this girl, he's never seen her alive, save for on the monitor mere minutes before her death. And yet, as he looked at her, he couldn't help but think of the parents who would never see their daughter again, the friends who would never again play with her. All because of Afton. Afton and himself. He was feeling even sicker than he had previously.

Just an hour later, Kellan stood leaning against a tree behind the diner, his shirtsleeves rolled up and a shovel in hand. Before him was a small mound of earth and beneath that earth was the girl's body. Even as he stood there, trying to get a hold of his sanity, Trauma Bear stood next to him, chuckling. His guilt was growing with every second.

Jones gave a shake of his head and noticed a cut on his left arm, a small amount of blood trickling from the wound. Huh. Weird. That had not been there while he was digging the grave. When had that happened? Not that it really mattered.

It was closing time, and Kellan made his way to the parking lot. The diner was all locked up for tonight. He found himself wondering how the parents reacted. No, he couldn't let that happen. He couldn't think that way. It would only increase his guilt even further, if that was even possible.

Right out front, was a simple-looking car and leaning against it was William. He grinned as he saw Kellan. "You've disposed of the body?" he asked, already knowing the answer from the look on Kellan's face. "Good. Now, get in, Jones. We're going for a ride. I have something to show you."


	5. Chapter Five

_June 17th, 1983. 9:32 PM_

-The Afton Residence, Colorado-

The car ride with Will was one of the most awkward experiences of Kellan's life. Definitely in the top three, and possibly even worse than the time he accidentally walked into the girls' changing rooms back in high school. At least then, people were screaming at him. The complete silence that hung over the car for the entire journey was practically killing Kellan. It did not help that he had no idea where they were going and for all he knew, Afton could be driving him to a nice, secluded area so that he could kill him. That was not a pleasant thought at all.

Alas, eventually, they arrived at a small suburban community and it finally hit Jones as to where they were going, this only being confirmed by them pulling up outside a house, with "Afton" printed on the mailbox.

The house was what you would expect from just your average 9 to 5 businessman. It had white walls, was one story tall and had a carefully maintained and looked after garden out front. Nobody who looked at it would suspect it was the home of a killer, hell, Kellan wouldn't even suspect it, were it not for the mailbox bearing the name that was sure to haunt the man for the rest of his life.

"Get out." Will commanded sharply as he himself stepped out of the car, Kellan quickly following behind. The two made their way to the front door. Looking through the living room window, Jones was able to see Elizabeth and the third Afton child sitting and watching some cartoon together. Everything seemed so normal, that it gave Kellan the shivers.

Afton turned the key in the lock and like that, the two were standing in a wooden-floored hallway, family photographs and certificates to Afton's achievements lining the walls. "Please, hang your jacket up." The man instructed and Kellan did just that. He really didn't like how normal everything seemed.

William then led the way into the living room, opening the door as he loosened his own tie, stepping aside to let Kellan step in. the room had a faded blue carpet, a red couch and more photographs sitting on the mantelpiece, where the fire was currently out. In this day and age, the need for fires was becoming less and less necessary and Kellan had a sneaking suspicion that William probably had a way to generate his own electricity for free.

"Elizabeth, Tommy, turn off the tv." Will stated, looking at the two. "There's a guest over and I want you to introduce yourselves."

Like clockwork, Elizabeth ran over and turned off the tv, prompting a small groan from her brother, and the two waddled over to Kellan. Tommy was the first to speak, while the girl weirdly stood there, examining the man for a few moments. Yikes, was everyone in this family creepy?

"I'm Tommy." The kid said nervously. He spoke with a lisp and it was not hard to ascertain his personality just from his first few words. "It's… it's very nice to meet you sir…" to which Jones responded with a simple, polite nod. This one didn't seem so bad. Just a little odd, that was all…

"You're the guy from the library!" Elizabeth suddenly cut in, clearly not being entirely sure on how to read the mood of a room. "When Mike and I went, I saw you leaving." Kellan felt the corners of his mouth tighten. Was this girl seriously about to accidentally screw him over? The last thing he needed was Afton hearing about his little research trip.

"Oh, did you?" William asked, in an interested tone. "I wonder what you were doing there, Kellan?" he asked, knowing full well why the assistant manager had been there, and it was evident in his face. "In any case, I'm going to go get some coffee. You want anything, Kellan?"

"Uh… no thanks." The man said awkwardly, as both young kids yelled out "Tea please, dad!" the two were clearly acting on the same wavelength, and with a grin, William slipped out to the kitchen. The kids stared at Kellan for a few seconds, before going back to their tv, Elizabeth switching it on, and they resumed watching… holy shit, was that Immortal and the Restless? That shit was on tv when he was a kid, a good twenty or so years ago. It was weird to see it still being so popular.

Kellan spent a few minutes looking around at the room. Everything was, and he found himself thinking this a lot, so normal it was weird. It wasn't long before he got bored and made up his mind. This was a golden opportunity here. A chance to find out more about the Afton family, and so, with the children focused entirely upon the cartoon, Jones slipped out of the room into the corridor.

Slowly, he started to walk his way through the halls of the house. Everything still maintained its usual look, wood floorings and pictures on the walls. One picture showed William and Henry standing outside Fredbear's on the day of the grand opening. Both men were smiling warmly. It gave him shivers to see the barely human monster that was Afton smiling. Another picture seemed to be some sort of vacation photo, with William, a young Mike and a woman with sharp features and long blonde hair tied up into a bun that Jones assumed to be Mrs Afton. Clearly, the younger two kids hadn't been born when the photo was taken, Mike himself only being three or four. The kitchen door was firmly shut, and Kellan could hear a kettle on the other side. That should keep the patriarch of the Afton family busy for a while.

Eventually, he reached a promising area of investigation. A door with a "No entry" sign hanging on it. The door was slightly ajar, so clearly someone had gotten sloppy. Well, Kellan had buried a child earlier. He wasn't about to say no to a simple trespassing. And so, he opened the door, slowly and quietly, as not to attract any attention. And what he saw inside was certainly interesting.

Kellan had stumbled upon Afton's workshop. It was a small room, with metal panelling on the floors and shelves, not unlike the ones in Fredbear's storage room, lining the walls, and holding all kinds of animatronic parts, from legs to torsos to heads. A small walk-in closet sat on the west wall and perfectly centred, surrounded by the shelves, was a workbench, and sitting on that workbench was an endoskeleton. Jones cautiously approached, coughing quietly into his sleeve from the absurd amount of dust coating every square inch of the room.

Upon closer inspection, the endoskeleton was clearly different from the ones used in the animatronics. Just in little ways, though. It had a bigger head, five fingers as opposed to the four that Fredbear and Bonnie had. Kellan quickly brushed them off as just new designs. After all, Afton was the technical genius behind the restaurant. He was probably developing improved models all the time. No, what Kellan found more interesting were the blueprints on the table. The first was for something called a "S.C.U.P" whatever the hell that may be. It looked to be some sort of crane-like thing, with a huge scooper on the end, like something you'd see at a construction site. The hell would Afton want something like that for?

It only got stranger. Beneath that was a blueprint detailing some sort of new animatronic. It was called Ballora, and looked to be some sort of Ballerina. Jones had heard talks about introducing a female animatronic, but he had assumed it would be like a bird, or a fox, or some sort of animal. This seemed totally out of place. She appeared to have the ability to remain activated, even without being turned on by an employee, and, strangest of all, in red pen, the phrase "For Clara" was hastily scribbled on. Kellan could feel the sweat curving at his brow and slipping down his cheeks, collecting t his chin. Something was very wrong. Who the hell was this Clara woman? What relevance did she have to Afton? And just what was the purpose of these animatronics? Wait, there were more blueprints underne-

"So, father really can't trust you." Said a calm, British voice, breaking the eerie silence of the room and causing Kellan to jump as he spun around. Thank god, although the voices were similar, the man he saw behind him was not William Afton, but his eldest son, Mike. The boy was dressed in casual dark jeans and a polo shirt and had a small grin plastered on his face.

"You shouldn't be here." Mike said, pointing a lazy finger in Jones' direction. "And something tells me you shouldn't have been in the library two days ago."

Kellan swallowed. His throat was dry. What was going to happen now? The most likely scenario was Mike would call for his father and there was a high chance of Kellan joining that girl in the grave. Even as he thought about that, he could see Trauma Bear lurking in the shadows of the workshop. He swallowed again and made direct eye contact with the boy.

"So, what happens now?" he asked, maintaining a calm and collected tone of voice, despite his nerves slowly snapping like twigs. He was truly in the belly of the beast, the centre point of Afton's sordid operation. Moonlight streaked through the small window above the bench, bleaching both Mike's and his own skin a deathly white.

"What I'm not going to do," the Afton son replied, moving closer to the bench and looking over it. "Is turn you in. in fact, sir, this is sort of a blessing to me. You see… I know things about my father…"

"What kind of things?" Kellan asked, feigning ignorance. He didn't know why he did that. He knew that Mike knew that he knew all about William's murders and it was becoming increasingly obvious.

"William Afton- and I call him that because I refuse to ever acknowledge that man as my father- is twisted. He's not only neglectful, he's downright abusive. He drinks often and whenever he does, he doesn't care if it's me, Tommy or Liz in the firing range. Back when mother was alive, he seemed somewhat restrained, but ever since her death…" Mike trailed off, looking up to the night sky through the window. It was obvious he was having trouble telling this story and, to be totally honest, it was hard for Kellan to listen. But he knew he had to. Any information he could use against Will was vital. Finally, Mike started speaking again.

"Not only that, I know that he's a murderer. He uses Fredbear's as a trap to lure in poor naïve kids and there, he makes sure they never find any kind of rest. All for pleasure. Of course, I'm sure you already know this much. What I'm willing to bet you don't know is that his first kill was against Charlotte, the owner's daughter. His own partner's daughter." Mike seemed almost angry, despite his level tone, and it didn't take a genius to sense there was most likely some sort of friendship between him and Charlotte before her untimely demise. "He took advantage of her being alone and he killed her. Because he thought it would be fun. Because he's a sick, twisted, piece of shit. And I'm no better, for allowing him to continue."

Trauma Bear chuckled from the back of the room and Kellan found himself wishing he could be Mike. That his biggest regret could be simply inaction. Instead, he had to deal with playing an active roll in Mike's father's schemes. He couldn't even bring himself to look at the fifteen-year-old.

He was broken from his thoughts by the sound of footsteps outside the room, both people's heads snapping towards the entrance. William was approaching. Shit.

Before he could react, Mike grabbed Kellan's hand and pulled him away into the closet, closing the door, just as the door to the room opened and the sound of footsteps grew nearer. With mere nanoseconds remaining, Mike drew the closet shut and all sound seemed to suddenly cease.

Jones could hear his own heavy breathing on the door, Mike right beside him within the surprisingly spacious closet space. The two moved further towards the back and Kellan felt his back hit against something cold and metallic. Weird. Why was that in a closet? It only took a few more seconds for the duo's eyes to adjust to the darkness and it became clear that this was no closet.

"What the fuck?"


End file.
